Eve of Destruction (61 page)

***

A lump formed in Glenn Maltus’s throat as he gazed out upon the Hall of Innovation and the carnage in front of it. The battle was over; the corpses of Steamworks soldiers littered its steps. Overturned carriages and wagons still burned in every direction, and the moans of dying men and beasts echoed across the smoke-filled streets.

But the triumphant Enclave forces weren’t pressing their attack into the building. They were, in fact, running in the opposite direction. It didn’t take long to figure out why.

“The Fane,” Jean whispered as the trio crouched behind a toppled statue. “It’s…”

“Dying,” Gregori finished.

Maltus didn’t even have to weave to know his friend was right. He could feel the dark chill creeping across the city. Someone had sundered the Fane—someone had Defiled. And now the gaping maw they’d torn open grasped across Cadotheia like a thousand frozen tentacles yearning to crush the life from their victims.

“Eve,” he breathed. “We’re too late.”

“Not yet,” Gregori said, leaning over their cover and squinting. “Look.”

Maltus followed the man’s gaze and frowned in confusion. Eve was racing down the front steps of the Hall, Zach held tightly in her arms. He had to blink twice before he believed it.

“Well, come on!” Jean insisted, hopping up from her crouch and racing over to the young woman. The two men followed right behind her.

 “Evelyn!” Maltus called out.

She tossed him a shocked glance before veering towards them.

“We have to run,” she told them when she got close. “Chaval is—”

A rolling tremor shook the city as the Hall of Innovation began to crumble. Cracks traced along the giant dome until it finally shattered and the entire sphere collapsed inside itself. A shower of dust and stone rained over the streets, and the group dove for cover back behind their toppled statue.

“Where’s Shaedra?” Maltus asked though clenched teeth.

“Inside,” Eve said. “She went after Chaval, and then this happened.”

She set Zach gently down on the ground. He looked conscious, if only just. Blood was splattered across his knee, and without aid he wouldn’t survive long. Jean quickly brushed a hand across his wound, and her palm flashed with healing magic.

“We’re dead, aren’t we?” Eve asked softly as she glanced back to the building.

Maltus shook his head. The wound in the Fane was spreading, like a crack slowly drawing across a pane of glass. It was Kalavan or Vakar all over again. The wound hungered for lives to feed it power, and hundreds or even thousands would fall before it was sated.

But not them. Not yet. For all of his failures today—for all his failures in his life—Maltus could protect them from this. Then at least they would be able to face the aftermath together.

He took a deep breath and reached to the Fane. Few in the Enclave, even among the magisters, had access to the full depths of their ancient knowledge. Maltus was one of them, and he called to mind the only spell that could ward them against such a release of such power.

A shimmering sphere of energy burst around them, a single bubble standing resolute against the tidal wave of destruction washing away Cadotheia and its people.

And with them, any hope of a peaceful future.

Epilogue

By nightfall, Cadotheia was a graveyard. Every living thing within a mile of the Hall of Innovation was dead, reduced to a desiccated husk or pile of ash. A few of the buildings had been razed, but most of them still stood…and I think that made the scene even more haunting. They were like tombstones bearing silent eulogy to the wound that had been torn in the Fane.

It didn’t take long for news of the tragedy to reach everyone in Arkadia. No election took place this last Monday, and part of me wonders if there will ever be one again. Local officials have been trying to keep people calm, but that won’t last for long. Anarchy is spreading like wildfire. The Dusty gangs out west are calling for blood, and they’re using the newspapers to spread their vitriol. Here in the east, it isn’t much different. The Enclave has been trying to rally anyone—mage and torbo alike—who will stand with them. The universities have emptied, and their students have become soldiers overnight. It won’t be long before the military declares martial law, for all the good it will do. The lines have already been drawn, and people have chosen their sides.

Except for us. I think that’s what bothers me the most. In every history book we ever read growing up, wars were almost always black and white—one side was clearly wrong, and the other was clearly right. Father always warned me that the real world was a lot more complicated, but I don’t think I ever really appreciated that until now. I couldn’t pick a side to follow even if I wanted to. 

Even in death, Chaval got what he wanted. I might not have wiped out Cadotheia, but as it turned out, he didn’t need me to. He has become a martyr, a rallying figure that has whipped the Dusties into a blind rage. They want to burn down every temple and kill every mage. And on the other side, the Enclave is just as savage. They’ve done everything in their power to take over the country. They assassinated the President and killed hundreds of civilians just to prevent an election they were going to lose.

It’s sickening, and I’m still not sure what we’re going to do. The others seem to think our best bet is to try and prevent as much destruction as we can. They want to save magi that are in trouble, of course, but they also want to stop the Enclave. I think they’re right, but I have no idea how we’re going to do any of that. I don’t even know how we’re going to survive.

About the only thing I do know is that Zach is still with me, and somehow that makes me believe things will be all right. I’m more confused about why he’s still here at all. Any sensible man would have run away from me a thousand times over by now, but he hasn’t. He’s stood beside me despite everything that has happened, and I don’t know what I would do without him.

I hope I never have to find out.

Evelyn DeShane set down her pen and looked out the window. It was a beautiful day here in Lushden, and she wanted to enjoy the peace while it lasted. Behind her, Zach was asleep on the couch next to a pile of letters recalling him to the army. They came from a half dozen different officers in the increasingly fractured Arkadian military, each trying to recruit whoever they could to their side. They were a grim portent of the chaos to come.

She sighed and squinted out the window, and despite her best efforts she couldn’t help but wince at her reflection. The scar on the left side of her face ran from the corner of her eye all the way to her jaw line, and no healing magic had been able to remove it. Its partner on her left hand was less obvious but just as marring. For some reason the wounds made her think about Shaedra and wonder what had happened to her. Maybe she had survived the Defilement somehow…or maybe she had finally found peace. Either way, if not for her, Eve would have had far worse than just a few scars to show for the battle. She breathed a silent thanks to the woman she had, at one point, hated nearly as much as Chaval.

“I hope someone gets to read that someday,” Zach commented from behind her, smiling as he sat up. “It would make for a pretty exciting book.”

She grunted softly. “I don’t know about that.”

“You can always spice it up later,” he suggested. “Indulge on a few of the details.”

Eve smiled. “Mr. Maltus thought it would be a good idea to keep an account of what happened regardless of how it turns out.”

“He’s probably right,” Zach admitted. “And I think it would make your parents proud.”

He walked up behind her, still limping a bit from the wound in his leg. The cellium bullet had prevented magical healing, so it was going to have to mend the old-fashioned way. He might never again have full movement with it.

His fingers kneaded her shoulders, and Eve closed her eyes and let herself melt beneath his touch. They’d been alone here for the last two days while the others went to gather more allies, but soon enough they’d be moving on. It wouldn’t be safe for them to stay in any one place too long with both the Dusties and the Enclave trying to find them. It might end up being the last time she ever looked at this house, and the thought made her heart sink.

“More mail?” Zach asked.

Eve blinked her eyes open and glanced outside. The postman slid a letter into the box and then rode off.

“Probably trying to enlist you, too,” Zach grunted.

Eve shrugged and stepped outside to go and grab it. She frowned when she pulled it out and read the label. “Not to be delivered until…”

“Who’s it from?” Zach asked from behind as he slid an arm around her waist.

She shook her head distantly as she tore open the envelope. “I think it’s from…mom.”

“Huh?” he breathed, peering over her shoulder.

To my loving daughter,

If you’re reading this, then I’ve achieved more than I ever dreamed possible. I have cheated fate, and I have given you a chance to become something extraordinary. By now you’ve learned about some of the things I never told you, and I don’t think you’ll ever understand how hard it was for me to keep the truth from you. I realized long ago that it was my destiny to carry these burdens alone, no matter how difficult it might have been. Each time I shared my gift with someone, it ended in disaster. I wasn’t willing to make that mistake again.

You might be the Avenshal, but that does not have to be a curse, I hope you understand that now. It means you have a special connection to the Goddess and her Fane, and it can be a wondrous gift if you let it. I know it will serve you well in the impossible times ahead.

Within the house you will find the remnants of my journal and many other entries like them. They are hidden in your father’s study behind the third shelf inside a hidden wall safe. There is no key, but your magic should be able to open it. I hope that once you read them, you will understand the necessity of my sacrifice. Misleading Simon—drawing him out into the open—was the only way I could protect you. The coming war was the one thing I couldn’t change, but I have done everything I could to give you a chance to survive.

Trust in yourself, and trust in your friends. Abalor may have touched your spirit, but I know that Edeh holds your soul. You will find the strength to persevere, and you will be the one who keeps our people alive through the coming darkness.

Know that I love you more than anything. Perhaps someday when we are together in the arms of the Goddess, we can speak as if for the first time and finally know each other. Until then, I will be waiting.

Mom

Eve slumped on the steps. The cool air matted the tears to her face, and Zach wrapped his arms around her tightly. He said nothing, but she felt his own tears on the back of her neck.

She closed her eyes, and the letter fell to the ground.

***

Shaedra Nafal growled as she pulled herself free from the seemingly endless pile of debris covering the Hall of Innovation. Her body ached as it never had before, and she gasped for air while lying on her back, staring up at the full moon hanging ominously in the sky. Dried blood—both hers and the normal human variety—covered the remnants of her jacket. The lacerations scarring her body had scabbed over but not healed, and her wounded arm hung at her side as limply as ever. She tried to draw in enough power to begin the regeneration process, but there was none to be found.